


Desire

by SinningPlumpPrincess



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Bloodhound Headcanons (Apex Legends), Bloodhound has a vulva (Apex legends), Caustic has a big dick, Cunnilingus, Dacryphilia, Exhibitionism, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Kinda-ish in the first scene, Other, Pegging, Piercings, Strap-Ons, boys in lingerie, fwb to lovers, monster dildo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 07:54:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21194237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinningPlumpPrincess/pseuds/SinningPlumpPrincess
Summary: Commission for someone on tumblr!--Even just seeing so little of them as he could. From their sharp, black painted nails peeking from fingerless leather gloves, to how decorated their ears were in gold piercings. To how he could feel their piercing gaze on him from across the hall as they made their way out.It made sense for them not to wear their gear in public- people would recognize them by their signature helmet and mask. But, like that? They were an anonymous person.A beautiful, anonymous person.From then on? Alexander can’t stop his dying curiosity. A small taste of flesh, a hint of a person underneath, and he had to know more. Had to know the why’s, had to know the how’s. It’s not an obsession, a curiosity, he’d put it. He had already been curious in them before, but now?Oh, now it was hunger.





	Desire

**Author's Note:**

> See more of my junk on my tumblr at @sinningplumpprincess 
> 
> Donate to my kofi under the same name if ya like my work!

It wasn’t every day you met someone like Bloodhound. A fearsome apex predator in the arena, just as they were a mysterious enigma out of it. They stalked and hunted contenders in the games just like they were nothing but deer for their sacrifice. Never treated it like it was a game, more of a religious experience. 

It was of no surprise Caustic became interested in how this hunter worked. Bloodhound was a mysterious ally and foe, more active talking when on a squad, and ever respectful when sticking a knife in your throat. It appeared they did not play these games for the money or the glory, they appeared to be doing their gods’ wills. 

It was interesting to think that someone such as Bloodhound, almost feral yet beautifully regal, would ever bow their head to someone they could not see. 

Fascinating, if you were to ask Caustic that is. 

There was such power behind everything they did that just sparked something in him that Caustic hadn’t felt in- well, awhile. Some sort of interest, the need to pick them apart, to know them inside and out. He wanted to know why the bulky armor if their build was smaller underneath- wouldn't they be even more agile without such bulk in the way? He wanted to know why the mask, was it a religious thing or was there something more lying just underneath the surface? 

How did they get so good wielding any blade? Why ‘the Allfather’? How could they hit their target straight on and not brag about it, but instead humbly accept the kill and offer it to a being that could not be seen? 

What, on any planet, made Bloodhound tick? 

It starts off as an innocent fascination, Alexander tells himself that much when he’s not in the ring. When the games weren’t going, he tries not to think about them. They way their weight on top of him before they sheathed a blade in his throat had him going more than anything. How watching them lie prone on a building near him on his squad, pulling a trigger and seeing the flex in their forearms and bicep had him fighting to tear his gaze away. 

All...innocent curiosity. He just wanted to know who Bloodhound was. 

That’s all. 

A lie he can believe until the legends are offered dorms to stay in to be close by. A compound for all of them. A few of them are friendly to one another, after a few tense days. Alexander tries to stay mostly out of the way, not looking to befriend. 

Until he sees Bloodhound much later, dressed down and out of armor. In skin tight black jeans, a high necked tight tunic, a leather jacket with feathers on the shoulders and a mask to cover their lower face with sharp teeth painted on it. Red glasses cover their eyes and their crimson curls are pulled back into a braid. And his whole world seems to stop. 

Even just seeing so little of them as he could. From their sharp, black painted nails peeking from fingerless leather gloves, to how decorated their ears were in gold piercings. To how he could feel their piercing gaze on him from across the hall as they made their way out. 

It made sense for them not to wear their gear in public- people would recognize them by their signature helmet and mask. But, like that? They were an anonymous person. 

A beautiful, anonymous person. 

From then on? Alexander can’t stop his dying curiosity. A small taste of flesh, a hint of a person underneath, and he had to know more. Had to know the why’s, had to know the how’s. It’s not an obsession, a curiosity, he’d put it. He had already been curious in them before, but now? 

Oh, now it was hunger. 

Perhaps he watches a bit too closely in later games when they are on the same squad. A few times Bloodhound asks if he is alright, a gloved hand clasped on Alexander’s shoulder and he can practically picture their concerned face as they ask, “Are you alright, felagi fighter? Your strength does not leave you from the heat?” 

Caustic about vibrates when he’s been caught, shrugging them off and offering a shaky exhale from his own mask, followed by, “I am quite alright. Don’t fret, I shall...catch up in a moment.” 

From then, Caustic starts to take notice about how they notice he’s watching them. It’s little things, such as a small tilt of their head, the gleam of their goggles giving nothing away. However, he can feel the intensity of their stare on him. Curious and cautious. 

Yet, they don’t tell him off for it. So, like any good scientist, he keeps watching. Making his own observations, doodling them when he can in his journal that he kept on hand for field discoveries. From how their body curves at certain angles to how they become a feral beast when they suddenly snarl, shout to the sky, and take off in a frenzy of slaughter. 

The upcoming match, it’s Bloodhound, Caustic, and a newcomer on a squad. Bloodhound seems agitated already on the dropship, rolling their neck and balancing weight from foot to foot. Yet, in the arena they seem calm and calculated as usual. Keeping communication with the squad and marking the tracks of other people in the arena. 

The newcomer doesn’t like being bossed around, is some snot nosed man who huffs and takes off. Saying he won’t be treated like lesser just because they’re a legend. Polite as ever, Bloodhound bows their head and offers for him to offer his assistance to the squad. Which results in him exploding and storming off- promptly ending up on the scoreboard as ‘out of the game’. 

Which leaves them alone. Something Caustic had been with them before, except this time felt...different. 

They take a more authoritative tone to keep them both alive and standing. Caustic doesn’t argue against them, following their every move. Trained like a dog at the beckon of their hand to approach to the fist they make when Bloodhound wordlessly tells him to stop. 

Truly, it isn’t in Caustic’s best nature to be getting hard over this, but he can’t help it. The full effect of it is when they shove him into a corner, hands on either side of his body to keep him from being seen by a squad running by and chasing another. Their smaller body doesn’t move an inch from his, shoved into a tight corner, their head turned to listen to the noise outside. The sounds of gunfire, then soon quieting down to a full squad down and the sounds of looting, then they leave. 

But all Caustic can hear is his own heart pounding and how Bloodhound’s breaths are quiet and timed, while his are almost panted out. Trying to squeeze his chubby thighs together to keep from acting like this. So... depraved, almost creepy, he thought. 

He thinks he’s gotten away with it. 

He thinks he also gets away with how much he’s been watching them, how his eyes trail for far too long. 

He thinks he’s gotten away with all of it, up until later. 

Bloodhound confronts him after the small celebration of the champions, with him and Bloodhound coming in second place. Bloodhound had slinked off to not be apart of the limelight, while Alexander had stayed behind a bit longer to catch a glimpse at the champions. 

When he’s walking through the halls, he can feel the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end. But before he can act upon his instincts, he’s shoved back into a wall. A smaller frame presses against him, fingers twisted in his shirt now that his gear for the ring was removed. His eyes widen, looking down at Bloodhound who was still fully geared up, the little trinkets on their helmet clinking with the soft sway of the strings. 

“You have been watching me.” They state clearly, almost agitated it sounds like. Alexander would smile at the situation, but he knows better than to provoke them. So, he’s smart, he stays silent, watching as they take a step closer to really press him into the wall. He can’t really help himself, his breath hitching and his hands going to grab them, but when they snarl he quickly lets his hands retreat. 

With Alexander’s hands now resting fingertips on the wall, their shoulders relax a bit. They scoff at him once no response comes, letting their hands untwist from his shirt so they can boldly rest them at his sides. Almost hesitating as they trail down to his hips, goggles set intently on his face. Yet, Alexander can only give the briefest of nods. As if telling them it’s alright. 

“You have been studying me.” They state bluntly once more, hooking fingers in the belt around his waist to yank him closer. Their smaller body able to fit between his thighs that he parts willingly. How curious, they wonder, but not before huffing once again. 

“You have been hard while watching me.” Bloodhound growls out, letting one of their hands trail down his hip to cup his crotch upon that word. They feel a thrill shoot up their spine when Alexander grunts, tipping his head to the side like rightful prey the way he exposes himself. 

Oh. Oh, he liked them treating him like this. How curious indeed. 

“What have your studies shown you?” They continue, letting their gloved hand roughly feel the outline of his cock with small squeezes. They almost drop their tone, surprised at his size, but when he lets out a small groan in the back of his throat they snap back. “That you like having your throat ripped out by my blade? That you would prefer that I use my teeth?” 

Alexander’s breath catches and he nods his head without thinking. Helpless as they feel him up. Bloodhound is in awe at him, how they’d taken the stance that perhaps he’d be more dominant in the bedroom. And yet, seeing how he tilts his head, flushed all over his freckled face, oh how could they not indulge him? 

“Come.” They murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. Bloodhound could laugh at how obediently he perks up, following after them as they push him into a nearby room. A supply room with a mirror on one side of the room and the other side covered in different gear for newer people. It’s easy enough to slip in, shutting the door and sliding a nearby jacket under the door so it would act as a doorstop long enough. Just in case. 

Alexander is as obedient as ever when they point to the floor wordlessly. Bloodhound would be lying if they said they didn’t get satisfaction out of watching him drop to his knees so eagerly. Gingerly, their gloved hand fits into his hair, giving him a tug until his face is pressed to their crotch. 

“What an eager boy.” They coo, hearing him inhale their scent and nuzzle his face there. As if he’d dreamed of this moment, or perhaps thought this in fact was all a dream. Alexander doesn’t even need to be told what to do, just eagerly working on their pants and hooking his fingers into their boy shorts. Tugging their pants down to mid-thigh with their underwear and about whines when he sees them. 

Soft, dark red curls rest on the mound of their cunt. Darker at the slit where they’re wet already with a juicy clit peeking out from their plump lower lips. Alexander shakily exhales, using two fingers to part them open to watch their inner lips blossom open like a flower. Pink and shiny already with slick as their clit juts out like an invitation. 

A small tug on his hair and he’s immediately sealing his lips over their clit. Suckling eagerly as one hand keeps them parted, framing their clit with his fingers as his other hand holds onto their toned thigh. Squeezing in turn when Bloodhound sighs with pleasure, letting their head thunk back against the mirror. 

“Mnh-” They moan out softly when Alexander laps at them. From hole to clit in a few strokes, moaning at their taste in turn. He can’t help it, having ached so badly for this moment. His cock is aching in his pants, throbbing and imagining them cruelly crushing it with their boot. But, instead, they laugh softly at him. “Ah- so eager?” 

Their answer is a wet, open mouthed kiss on their clit. Getting so lost in their taste and scent that he starts to nose his way up from just about their hole to their clit. Smearing their slick on his face as his tongue stays out to lick up their taste with absolutely no shame. 

A messy eater, Bloodhound notes, using their hand in his hair to fist the strands at the root and shove his face back into them. Hissing when he gets more eager, bringing the hand from their thigh to stroke two fingers at their entrance. Waiting for them to spread their legs wider before he presses them inside. Licking and sucking at their clit, curling his fingers inside of their tight walls. 

Bloodhound cums with a snarl, one that he’ll keep in mind as they hold him still to their cunt. Letting Alexander lick desperately at them until he’s pulled away. He’s left to pant, fingers gently pulling out of them so he can lick the mess off eagerly before trying to make a show of his straining cock. 

“Please-” He finally says, eyes almost teary as his hands paw at their thighs. He looked absolutely pathetic, cock trapped in his pants onto his thigh with a darker spot at the head where he was leaking pre-cum. 

Instead, they huff at him, nudging at his cock with their combat boot. “Surely you can beg better than that.” 

\-- 

That was months ago where Alexander’s...’obsession’ turned out to be a long term thing. Friends with benefits, as he had put it. Watching as Bloodhound had tilted their head curiously at the term before accepting. It blew off steam for both of them, as well as providing Bloodhound with more reason to take the lead in most occasions. 

Alexander thought it was rather nice. They were very attractive, smart, a tremendous tracker, and both a great rival in the arena as well as a squad mate. To be on their good side was a win in his book, it meant he had the upper hand in most occasions. 

Well, against everyone except for Bloodhound, that is. 

Alexander found his role in the bedroom to be that of underneath the hunter. Bloodhound liked playing with him very much. From tying his cock with a ribbon to trying shibari, to making him cum multiple times from simply jacking him off or even putting their talented, pierced tongue to work. Alexander had also found, through these romps, that Bloodhound had quite the oral fixation. They enjoyed anything in their mouth from fingers, to his cock, to even his tongue on the rare occasion he was allowed to kiss them. 

No penetrative sex. If at most, Bloodhound would let him cum on their cunt or in their underwear or use their thighs so he could sob and beg them. But, they would not allow him inside. Alexander didn’t mind, ever obedient and happy with their arrangement. Except, feelings started...happening. 

He didn’t mean for them to. Yet, over the months of being in this arrangement with them, they’d started showing more. From their face where he could see the jagged claw mark scars going down their face and framing their blinded eye, appearing like a miniature sun. To how their full lips quirked into a grin, showing off sharp canines and dimples as they’d turn their head too quickly for him to get a full image. 

To how their voice was smooth, yet strong. How they purred out what a good boy he was, to taking care of him afterwards. 

To...how Alexander’s heart twisted and tugged every time they brushed careful fingers through his hair, tucking strands behind his ear and asked if he was alright. 

As much as he...liked their arrangement, he was afraid that feelings were becoming too strong. Bloodhound liked the openness in their talks, perhaps he could talk to them about it. Yet, after a week he comes to the conclusion that perhaps it wasn’t romantic attraction, perhaps it was just desire. 

So, Alexander brings it up casually to them. One night while they are coming down from a high, pulling off his face as they bask in their glow. 

“Would you ever consider penetrative sex?” Alexander asks bluntly, rolling to his side to look at them. In turn, Bloodhound knits their thick brows back at him, cocking their head to the side in a wordless question. “I mean- would you perhaps be comfortable with...fucking me?” 

Upon Alexander rephrasing it, with his cheeks glowing rosy, Bloodhound hums in return. Propping themselves up on their elbow and pushing their curls out of their face. They ponder for a moment, biting their bottom lip in a way that has Alexander’s heart fluttering- a thing he blames on desire. 

“Yes...Let us discuss boundaries and how you would like it, first, before we act upon it.” They finally say, rolling onto their tummy with a yawn and taking his pillow, nuzzling their cheek into it and smiling lazily at him. “Perhaps after some rest.” 

It was just his desire that makes him breathless. 

It was just his desire that makes him yearn to brush the hair from their face and caress their cheek. 

Just desire. 

That’s what he tells himself again when they’re in his room next week. Dressed in that black outfit that sends his heart racing, their mask thrown somewhere else in the room and their glasses set aside. They have him against the door, one hand twisted in his shirt to yank him down a bit to their level, the other grabbing his cock through his loose sweatpants. 

Alexander is a mess as they kiss him, a rare treat for him. Their tongue licks into his mouth, licking over his tongue and letting him taste the cinnamon-like tea they had earlier. Feeling over their barbell in their tongue with every swipe they give him. Eventually, Bloodhound pulls back once satisfied, letting their sharp teeth dig into his bottom lip with another squeeze to his dick. 

“Get on the bed.” They snarl, pulling away from him and watch him quickly obey orders. Hurriedly climbing onto the bed but not before they stop him with a simple hand in the air, open palmed. Wait. Wordless commands. “Strip. Let me see if you could obey a simple order.” 

Alexander’s cheeks flush red. He doesn’t back sass, doesn’t huff, but he does briefly avert his gaze. Fingers messing with the bottom of his t-shirt before he slowly pulls it up. Revealing his fluffy, rounded tummy and then slowly further up until baby pink lace is revealed. A simple lacy bralette that’s rather flattering to his shape. 

“All the way.” They urge him, shrugging out of their own jacket and tossing it to the side. Walking towards him like a predator stalking its prey with small, precise steps. Alexander, ever one to obey, strips out of his sweatpants as well. Revealing his large, thick cock trapped in lacy pink panties with a little black bow on the front. His cock is resting more on his hip than anything under the strap of the panties, clearly having been straining. Poor thing. 

Bloodhound’s eyes scream approval as they look him up and down. How his chubby thighs tremble and his fingers curl into the bed under him, his face burning red to his ears. His tongue flicks out anxiously over his lips, immediately catching how Bloodhound’s eyes lock onto it. 

They come over, knocking his legs open on the edge of the bed where he sits. Easily standing between them and grabbing his chin in their manicured fingers, tilting his head up. “Such a good boy, are you not? Look at how eager you are to be fucked by me.” Their voice is low, a powerful vibration as Alexander can only nod feverishly in reply, as best as he can with the firm grip on his chin. 

It doesn’t take long before Alexander is lying back on the pillows. His hole is stretched out by four slick fingers and his cock is peeking out from the top of his panties now. Leaking onto his abdomen with Bloodhound above him, their own clothing removed down to a sports bra and the boy short harness they wore. A large cock resting inside of it. 

With Bloodhound having vitiligo, there wasn’t anyone who made a cock with their skin tone, and besides they preferred ones like this. A monstrous looking dildo, almost plant-like in appearance. Soft pink and as thick as three fingers at the beginnings already, ribbed down to the rounded shaft and the dark green, leafy-like. A small tube went underneath, the syringe resting on the hip of their harness for easy pushing. The syringe containing quite the handful of cum lube. 

There is only a moment where Bloodhound goes slow and it’s upon first entrance. Lining up and pressing inside slowly until the base is flush with Alexander’s ass. Petting over his chubby, shaking thighs that rest over their hips. Bloodhound squeezes fondly at him, murmuring soft praise. “Good boy- look at how pretty you are. You take me so well. Just relax.” 

The throb in Alexander’s heart is not just from desire. 

He swallows thickly, giving a small nod for them to move, but they don’t. Stroking over his thighs and over his lace-clad cock. Waiting for him to verbally say when he’s ready. Knowing better that he liked the ache, but they only wanted to wreck him this go around. To see him cry. To hear him say their name like a prayer. 

The warmth in Bloodhound’s heart is not just from desire. 

When Alexander finally breathes out his approval, they’re right on him. Stopping their soft petting to now claw at his thighs, using him as leverage to pound their hips into him. Pressing their hips flush to his soft, chubby ass again and again as the sound of flesh against flesh resounds through the room. 

Bloodhound’s teeth find his shoulders and neck again and again. Sucking a hickey between his pecs before pushing his bralette to the side to seal their lips over a nipple, followed by a soft bite to the pillowy flesh. 

Alexander’s hands try to grab at them as noises rip through him that he wasn’t ready for. Cries and loud whines escaping his throat as they angle their hips perfectly to nail him on his prostate again and again. His blunt nails dig into their back, holding them closer until they’re squashed against him pleasantly. Each thrust of their hips letting his cock rut up against their abdomen. 

Each wet squelch of their cock pressing into him is a second closer to him cumming. Alexander’s eyes are glassy, tears welling up in pleasure and emotion as one hand comes up to grip at the hair at the nape of their neck. Not quite yanking, but holding them firmly to the crook of his neck that they attack with their sharp teeth and insistent sucking. 

He loved them. 

Oh, he loved them. 

With the sudden wave of emotion followed by another slam into his prostate, Alexander is gone. Crying out as blinding pleasure washes over him. Holding Bloodhound to his body as one leg rests around theirs, tucking behind one of their legs to keep them still and steady above him. His thick cock jerks weakly as it spills a copious amount of cum, a weak sob leaving him when he notes how full he feels. Catching Bloodhound’s hand moving from their hip where they pressed the syringe down to fill him up with cum. 

As they both begin to settle, Bloodhound is quick on the routine. Carefully pulling out but taking the time to spread his legs and watch the faux cum spill out onto an awaiting towel under Alexander’s hips. They hum in approval, stroking his thighs as they slip out of their harness. Paying no mind to how their slick leaves a patch on it or how flushed their own clit is. 

Instead they focus on getting a wet, cold towel and cleaning Alexander up. Washing off the cum on his tummy and taking care to avoid his cock. They murmur praise and adoring words as they kiss at the bruises and bitemarks on his neck, kissing at the shell of his ear in a way that sends shivers racing down his spine. 

“Hound?” He murmurs, voice tired and hoarse from all his moaning. Bloodhound hums in response, taking care to towel off any remaining bodily fluids on his abdomen. “How would you feel about...dating next?” 

Perhaps Alexander expected another reaction rather than to them laughing, watching as they lie down next to him, resting an arm on his chest to hold him. Fingers gently toying at his bralette. “You are very courageous these past two weeks, hm?” Voice playful and soft as they playfully snap the bralette’s strap to make him jump. 

With a warm kiss to his cheek, they smile there. “Consider yourself mine until you can no longer handle me, Alexander.” 

Theirs... 

He liked the sound of that.


End file.
